I vividly remember sitting on the bathroom floor, hugging my knees to my chest and sobbing hysterically. My husband sat silently with his hands on my knees as I uttered the words “I hate my life!” through wails of heartache.
It was June and I was approaching my due date, but had no baby to look forward to. Friends and family were happily pregnant. New babies were being presented to the world daily. And I was without mine.
Two years later, when the darkest nights had subsided, I began to write about them. The grief. The depression. The fear. The hopelessness.
And two years after that I found myself in the most beautiful place. A peaceful farm with a group of writers who spoke life into my soul. Women who have also survived the darkest nights. Women whose lives have been devastated, yet they somehow managed to become stronger in the wreckage. Women who lift up other women. Women who have become my friends, best friends even.
All because life had broken me. And all because God led me to share that brokenness with the world.
I never would have met these women if God hadn’t allowed me to be buried in the dirt, the dark. I never would have known that such goodness exists down here on earth.
Four years ago, I couldn’t have imagined that my life could feel full again. But it does. And while those feelings come and go, I cannot deny that God is good. Even when life is not.
Because of loss, I have gained so much – primarily in the form of people and relationships.
Could it be that in the darkness, God is actually planting us? So that we might break out of our shell and grow? So that we might RISE? So that we might realize how treasured and beautiful we are? So that after we survive the darkness we might be a light to others?
I have learned that there is more to life than what is immediately visible. When we are suffering in the dark we cannot see beyond it. But when we resurface, when we come out of the hole, there is light waiting to seep into our souls. And it will. All while we begin to bloom.
Because God has the power to create beauty from even the ugliest and most painful stories.
I don’t know why bad things happen. I don’t know why some women lose babies and others don’t. I don’t know why I lost mine. I have zero answers and no advice.
But I do know that there is hope beyond hurt.